


Teen X-Men Squad (Plus Peter)

by Natileroxs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Crossover, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), mostly my thoughts on how these guys could be added to the mcu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natileroxs/pseuds/Natileroxs
Summary: "Where the fuck are we?" Peter shook all his dizziness off and pushed himself off with his elbows."How the hell would we know?" Scott shot back, rubbing his closed eyes beneath his glasses. Jean sighed and stared up at the two tall buildings they were squished between."We're definitely not near home, that's for sure."Peter Maximoff and his teenage friends get thrown into the year 2018 where they have to get by while superheroes are kept in check by the government and not a single person knows what the hell a mutant is.





	1. Prologue - Trouble On the Way Down

**Author's Note:**

> New fic, I know! I've very recently got into this fandom and saw this piece of fanart https://www.deviantart.com/lysergic44/art/X-men-Apocalypse-612470462  
> which somewhat inspired this fic. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or the likes, all that belongs to Marvel (both Disney and Fox)

_1985_

 

It started out as an average day, with Peter stealing pretty much everything in sight only to return them a few minutes later, Jean and Scott sharing longing gazes with each other that made the rest of them want to be sick and Jubilee explaining certain things to Kurt everytime he questioned something.

 

It was when Professor Xavier called them down to dinner that Peter began to get a bad feeling. But at the time, he hadn’t thought too much of it. As the group descended down the stairs, him actually slowing his pace for once, lightheadedness crept into him and he staggered, reaching out and gripping tightly to the handrail, fingernails scratching the wood. Jean had frozen and turned around to stare at him. Concern but also dread was in her eyes.

 

“What’s taking you so long, Peter?” Scott suddenly spoke, noticing their pause in movement. “I thought you were supposed to be fast…” He trailed off and held his hand up to his head. Kurt reached out as Jubilee began to sway before falling back in a dead faint and the teleporter caught her. He looked almost helpless as Ororo, who had also been making her way downstairs, almost crashed into Peter before grasping the back of his jacket and holding herself upright, looking ill.

 

Kurt slowly lowered himself to the ground, Jubilee going down with him, and resting against the wall with her in his arms. Jean looked from one side of the stairway to the other in alarm seeming to be attempting to initiate contact with the Professor, but her grim and panicked expression told him that it wasn’t a success. Peter, with his limited coordination, slowly - so eerily slowly - spun 90 degrees and leaned his back against the rail, mirroring Kurt by sliding to the floor and helping Ororo down with him. Hopefully, after a few minutes, they’d all start feeling better.

 

Scott held his head for a moment before he began to rock backward and forwards as did Jean. His eyes darted to Peter’s and they both shared a brief second of smugness at the other’s weakness before black dots began to appear in Peter’s vision and Ororo slumped against his shoulder.

 

The last thing he heard was Jean yelling for Scott and the sound of someone tumbling down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Faint cries came from the stairs which had sent Charles’ mind into a spiral of what ifs. His worry had only worsened as he felt the faint but distinct presences of Peter’s whirlwind, Jean’s tame fire that at any minute could turn into a blazing inferno, Kurt’s peaceful garden, Ororo’s calm eye of the storm, Jubilee’s electric paradise and Scott’s pleasant yet empty beach of minds just… disappear. As if they’d never existed in the first place.

Fearing the worst, he’d quickly sent the rest of the students back to their room to wait in case of danger and agonizingly slowly made his way to the stairs, Raven and Erik at his side. He hadn’t said a single thing but they’d both seemed to sense his distress and come to check if everything was okay. Erik’s thoughts echoed out to him, a constant stream of “what’s wrong” and “where’s Peter, is he okay?”

 

His fear was valid and as Charles wheeled himself into the base of the stairs, his fears only strengthened as he reached his mind out to find the younger mutants, to even just brush one of their minds. But even Raven was shaking, with terror or rage he couldn’t tell, as they looked up the stairs and found nothing. No one.

 

“Charles?” Raven’s voice was sharp. “What is it?”

 

“They’re gone…” He breathed out and Erik’s head snapped towards him, aiming a hefty glare at the telepath as his mouth curled into a wobbly scowl.

 

“Who, who’s gone.” Erik hissed and Charles sighed.

 

“Peter, Kurt, Jean, Ororo, Scott, Jubilee, all of them. They’re just gone…”

 

Erik let out a growl as the thought of “I can’t lose him” projected from his head. Charles let out a harsh breath and caught sight of Hank crossing the room to catch up with them.

 

“We need to find them. Hank, take me to cerebro.”


	2. Chapter 1 - Thrown In the Deep End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, first proper chapter. 
> 
> I'm already loving this so much. This is just so much fun to write.

_2018_

 

“ _Ow, get off!”_

 

_“Sorry.”_

 

Peter slowly awoke to the sound of shuffling, complaining and moaning. He gazed, blurry-eyed, at the grey walls and groaned. At that, the three fuzzy figures turned and came into focus. Scott, Jean, and Kurt stared at him. Kurt sat up against the wall, Jubilee in his lap, fast asleep; and Jean and Scott were kneeling on the ground between them, Scott rubbing his head.

 

Peter looked down to see Ororo laying across him and he shifted to move her head onto his thigh as he shook off his dizziness and pushed himself up with his elbows. “Where the fuck are we?”

 

“How the hell would we know that?” Scott shot back, rubbing his closed eyes beneath his glasses. Jean sighed and stared up at the two tall buildings they were squished between. She decided then to settle with her legs crossed.

 

"We're definitely not near home, that's for sure."

 

Kurt bit his lip and looked around, attempting to find any sort of sign of where they were. His eyes darted to a discarded box and he nodded to it. Scott got to his feet, shaking as he stumbled to the object, picking it up and scrunching up his face in confusion. The shape prompted Peter to look for something himself, his walkman. Luckily it was sitting on his belt, right where it had been when they’d…

 

“What happened?” Jean hummed at this while movement prompted Peter to look down at Ororo, who was shifting to sit up. He helped her, pushing her back up and letting her shuffle back to press herself against the wall. Kurt took the box and began to examine the box, or what ever it was, before one side of the object brightened before glitching out and going dark again. The teleporter dropped the device almost instantaneously and the quiet but distinct sound of glass cracking. Peter shuffled over and picked the object up, glass shards crumbling to the ground as he did. Only one side was made of glass, the side that had lit up before, and was now littered with cracks and missing pieces. Peter placed it down again, standing.

 

“Maybe we should go…”

 

Jean made to stand as well and Scott helped her while she wobbled. Ororo used the wall as support. Kurt stayed sitting, gently nudging Jubilee and the girl slowly came to. She blearily looked at them and shuffled off Kurt, waving off help as she tried to stand but leaning on Kurt’s shoulder once standing.

 

“Yeah, let’s go.” Jean nodded. She stepped away from Scott and lead the group down what they presumed to be an alleyway, taking everything around them as she did. They came to a street, mostly empty of people but full of cars and loud honking and screens. Smelling food, Peter’s stomach began to rumble and he remembered it had been dinner when they’d descended the steps, and that he hadn’t eaten in hours. It was a wonder how he could even be standing at that moment.

 

Scott almost removed his glasses before catching himself. “What the fuck?”

 

* * *

  _1985_

 

Erik scowled as he dusted his eyes over the man in front of him. The human had been as useless as he’d been expecting, but it had been worth a try. He needed all the information he could get his hands on, and so he had stooped so far as to ask humans for help. Yet, the man in front of him had been subsequently unhelpful and so he had to dispose of the being before he got anything to the higher-ups.

 

“Anything else?”  He growled out, clenching his teeth as the man yelped. The man shook his head and Erik stared down, fingers twitching. Suddenly, a metal shard was stuck through the man’s abdomen. Erik scrunched up his nose in disgust as another person came up behind him.

 

“Erik.” Her voice was controlled, almost calm. “You can’t keep doing this.”

 

Erik spun around and faced the blue-skinned mutant. She frowned at him.

 

“I know you miss - “

 

“That’s not it, Mystique,” He cut in. “Now leave me.” He began to walk away, strides long and purposeful.

 

“I do too, Erik!” She called and he stopped but didn’t look at her.

 

“I told you that wasn’t it.”

 

“Perhaps it’s not the only reason. But it’s one of them.” She shot back and he knew she had her arms crossed. He looked behind himself to her.

 

“I can’t let more of my children slip from between my fingers.” He continued on his path out of the hall. She followed and caught his shoulder with her hand. “Mystique.” He tried to pull away with little success.

 

She kept her mouth shut.

 

“Mystique,” He said again, more urgently.

 

She gripped tighter.

 

“Raven,” He finally hissed and she let go, going around to stand in front of him. Her eyes were full of tears and he realized his were too, if not as dramatically.

 

“I just want him back, as much as you want Peter back.” Her voice cracked. Erik moved forward but didn’t touch her. He then stepped away.

 

“Why do you think I’m doing this?” He glared. “To get him back, safe and sound, with me. Right where he belongs.”

 

“He wouldn’t want this.” Her voice sounded completely broken, but it held something fierce and strong that he knew he shouldn’t mess with. “You know he wouldn’t.”

 

Erik sighed, turning back around. “I know.”  

 

* * *

  _2018_

 

“Aunt May, do we have new neighbors or something, because the people next door are much louder than usual.” Peter Parker made his way through the door to his and his aunt’s shared apartment. The woman in question looked up from whatever fancy new recipe she was trying out that day.

 

“Ah, yes there is. I saw a new face in the hallway, a very pretty young lady who told me she was moving in next door with her family.”

 

“Huh…” Peter raised his eyebrows. “I… I wonder what they’re like.”

 

“Maybe you could go visit them later, say hi.”

 

“Yeah… maybe.”

 

* * *

  _1998_

 

A little girl brushes her hands against a photograph and her mother pulls her into her lap.

 

“Who’re they, mama?”

 

Her mother sighs, a wistful look on her face. “That’s me,” She points to a little girl much like the one in her lap. “That’s my mother, your grandmother.” Her daughter nods.

 

“And him?”

 

Her mother hums and pulls the little girl close. “He is… he was my big brother... “

 

“Like Pietro?”

 

“Yes… like Pietro, Wanda.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there are our first few MCU characters. And there will be more. 
> 
> Poor Erik, he misses his son and all the others he's lost. :(


	3. Chapter 2 - To Assume I’m Wrong Is A Little Cruel

_ 2018 _

 

Ororo’s hand was wrapped around Peter’s shirt as they all stood on the pavement overlooking a world that couldn’t be there's. When people began to walk around them and shout, they stepped back into the alley a little. Scott pulled them all close to him, whether to console them or himself, Peter didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot of things at that moment. Like where they were, what was happening.

 

“So… we’re in New York,” Jean spoke and the group trained their gazes on her. She explains, “Someone thought it in passing. Said something about the horrible traffic in New York.”

 

“I guess that’s plausible, but when exactly are we?” Jubilee piped up. “It’s kinda obvious that we’ve time traveled.” She unconsciously brushed down her yellow jacket. It made Peter think of how ridiculous a colour it was. Imagine their suits were that colour. What a nightmare.

 

“We’re not too far from the mansion, are we?” Ororo asked before gesturing to Peter. “You could run us all over, couldn’t you?”

 

“I guess I could.” He didn’t know but he was unsure. “But… I have this strange feeling we shouldn’t go back.” They all looked at him confused, but he was saved from answering any of their questions by a sudden commotion. Cops blocked the alleyway. How had they not noticed their approach? Scott adjusted his glasses and seemingly stared them down. Jean shook Kurt and gestured to him to grab hold of them. He did and with that, they were gone.

 

And in the middle of a forest. Peter shot the teleporter a frustrated glance. The boy shrugged.

 

“I tried to teleport us to the school, but I couldn’t.”

 

“You couldn’t?”

 

“Yeah, I visualised it and everything. But I just couldn’t. There was something blocking me.” Kurt looked a little helpless so Peter gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. He then looked over at Jean.

 

“Can you get in touch with the professor?”

 

“I…” She paused and scrunched up her face in concentration before shaking her head with disappointment. “I can’t.” Scott bit his lip.

 

“What do we do now? If we can’t get through to the professor and the mansion seems to be blocked off then we have no one to go to.” He scanned the area. “Are we anywhere near civilisation?”

 

“Yeah, I’m starving.” Peter blurted out. Ororo gave him a small smile and Jubilee let out a quiet laugh. “I’ll check.” And with that, he was running, darting between trees through a forest that seemed to go on forever. He was almost contemplating turning back when he broke through the trees and looked out over a very familiar mansion. But before a smile could grace his lips, the bad feeling returned and he reached out to find something blocking his hand.

 

That couldn’t be good.

 

* * *

  _1985_

 

“Raven?” A voice quietly came through the door and she quickly scrubbed the tears from her eyes. She ran her hands over her face for good measure. The wood creaked as a loud knocking could be heard, more than likely unintentional but still.

 

“What, Hank,” She barely trusted herself to speak without bursting into sobs but to her surprise, she almost held together. That was until he slowly turned the door handle and she shuffled away as he entered and closed the door behind him, kneeling in front of her. He looked like he had when she’d first met him, all brown hair and geeky glasses. Not a trace of the blue furball he was embarrassed to call his rightful form. And to think, maybe he would embrace himself a little more if she…

 

She began to whimper as tears welled in her eyes. He leaned forward and held her wrists in his hands. He didn’t dare shoot her a smile, that’s not what she needed right now. She didn’t want someone to tell her everything was okay. She didn’t want everyone to smile and act like things hadn’t fallen apart, yet send their pity towards her when she wasn’t looking.

 

He didn’t pity her, no. He knew that he didn’t understand her pain, he didn’t pretend he could empathize with her. Instead, he slowly drew her close in a way she’d only dreamed of years before when she’d been unsure and he’d been much more awkward then he was now. And then he held her, like she was made of glass and could break at any moment. But he was wrong because she was already shattered.

 

“It would have been nice.” She whispered once her crying fit had stopped and her breathing had evened out. He looked down at her, beginning to rock her back and forth, careful and caring. “No, not just nice. It would have been perfect.”

 

He didn’t speak, just listened.

 

“I always thought about it. About him, and you and me. All of us, together.” She snaked a hand around his neck and rocked them backward, ending up with her lying on top of him, head curled into the dip between his shoulder and neck. He curled one arm around her waist, the other combing down her hair. “A family.”

 

“Wouldn’t that have been something,” He let out a shallow, almost silent chuckle and struggled a little before being able to press his lips against her temple.

 

“I always thought it was wishful thinking. A dream.” She spoke ever so slowly, barely matching his volume. “But then, I found him again and he let me into his life almost carelessly, trusting me from the moment we met. I-I thought we ha-had a ch-chance,” She hiccuped. “Then he - “ She cut herself off with a loud wail and he pulled her closer as she began to weep.

 

“I’m here,” He hummed.

 

They stayed like that for a long time, curled up together for what felt like forever.

 

* * *

  _1998_

 

“Wanda! Grab it!” Her brother shouted, motioning to a photo frame with it’s glass shattered and falling out. She reached over and grabbed it, catching her finger on a shard of glass and holding back a yelp. As he instructed she clutched it to her chest after shaking the remaining glass out of the frame as not to cut herself again.

 

“Pietro,” Her voice wobbled and he leaned over, grasping her hand and pulling her through the wreckage to the exit. His grip tightened when she slipped and helped her right herself before continuing. That’s all it took. From the corner of her eye, a figure appeared before catching her wrist and pulling her away. She screamed.

 

“Wanda!” Pietro cried as she kicked and shrieked in fear.

 

“Pietro!”

 

“Siostra!”

 

The photo frame crashed to the floor, wood splintering. It would be found much later by a certain metal bender.

 

* * *

_2018_

 

Clint hadn’t meant to be gone long, yet the darkness had crept upon him before he’d realised and now he was late home. His kids were all in bed and wife asleep when he made his way inside, quietly opening the door as to not wake anyone. He took delicate steps into the kitchen and then froze when he found two figures inside, one lying on the ground and another attempting to shake them awake. Then he heard it.

 

“Sister! It’s me,” He voice was low, urgent, and very familiar.

 

Clint could now see her hair splayed across the ground, seemingly having fainted. It was Wanda, who had a tendency to turn up at his house when feeling extra upset or lonely. The one with his arms wrapped around her, speaking to her in hushed tones, had icy white hair mixed in with dark roots. Clint must’ve made a noise because the boy shifted and turned to face him. The archer stared, heart pounding in his ears though he couldn't hear much else.

 

“Pietro?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Siostra - Sister (Polish)
> 
> There's my other precious quicksilver. And yes, Hawkeye will be a reasonably big character in this, because he doesn't get enough credit. 
> 
> Please comment with any questions or thoughts, I do respond quite quickly.


	4. Chapter 3 - We Are The Broken Hearted And The Sorrow Filled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 2000 words! Haven't hit that in a while. Hope I can give you more long chapters like this in the future.

_ 1985 _

 

“I can’t…” Charles held his head in his hands. Hank slowly brought his hand down onto Charles’ shoulder as the telepath shook. “I can’t find them.”

 

Erik felt his heart shatter and the rage that had been growing and festering in his stomach was rising to the surface. Raven grit her teeth. “We’ll just have to find them a different way,” She crossed her arms and stared Erik down. Hank turned to look at her and gave her a shaky but hopeful smile.

 

“I truly hope so.”

 

Erik growled, he actually growled, and walked away from the trio before finding himself unable to move. He scowled. “Charles.”

 

“Erik. Stop. Please.”

 

“Why, Charles? So that we can waste more time coming up with a perfect, safe little solution instead of going after them while we still have time.” Charles let go and Erik stormed out as Raven called out to him.

 

Erik wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop until he found his son, and he found the ones responsible and destroyed them. Peter was the only one he had left. Despite how much time had been lost, how much of a rocky start it had been, Erik would tear the world apart for his family, for his son. And that’s what he was going to do.

 

* * *

  _1984_

 

_Erik panted as Peter thrashed and threw up water, coughing and spluttering. He helped the boy sit up and leaned him against his chest as he began to breathe deep breaths. His silver hair was plastered down the sides of his face and hung in clumped together strands, soaking wet. His eyes were slightly out of focus and he was shivering._

 

_Erik pulled him closer, hoping his own body heat would help the boy as his eyes darted around for help. Shouting in his mind for Charles, he combed Peter’s hair back in an almost parental way, which wouldn’t make sense, but the whole thing didn’t make sense._

 

_As he finally heard Charles call back to him that help was on the way, Peter gazed up at him, dazed and light headed. His grin had a bit of a drunk confidence and there was a giddy, almost cheeky look in his eyes. “Hey, Mags.” Erik held back a smile._

 

_“Mags?”_

 

_“Yeah, Mags! Or would you rather me call you dad?” He the boy let out a bout of hysterical laughter. Erik brushed off the words as the boy being delusional._

 

_“Funny.”_

 

_“No, I’m completely serious,” Peter slurred and Erik was now fully convinced that Peter was currently shitface drunk as well as suffering the consequences of almost drowning. It confused him how the boy had even stopped in the middle of the pond in the first place, but everyone made mistakes so he couldn’t really hold this one against him._

 

_“Really?” Where the hell was Charles? The boy seemed to be fading out of consciousness quicker._

 

_“It’s like,” The boy seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “Like, you’ve spent so much time raising stuff like guns and submarines and stadiums…” Peter then paused, like even in his state he was hesitant to continue on this little confession. “Yet, you couldn’t even raise your own son.” He gave Erik a big smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and then completely drifted off as Erik sat, frozen.  He then pressed his hand to the boy’s cheek and let both sorrow and joy wash over him, stray tears sliding down his face._

 

_“Erik!” He heard Charles shout and he pulled the boy even closer. The footsteps behind him slowed and stopped._

 

_“How long have you known?” He asked, voice low and quiet. He could hear Charles sigh._

 

_“It was not my secret to tell, Erik.” Erik turned to face Charles, curling his arm around the back of Peter’s head and pressing his hand to the speedsters forehead. “Erik.”_

 

_Erik didn’t speak, just held his son closer._

 

_“I know-”_

 

_“How I feel, Charles? Was that what you were going to say?” He glared before his anger faded. “Why didn’t he tell me sooner. Why only when he was out of his mind and drunk as all hell that he finally told me? Was he… scared?”_

 

_This time Charles had nothing to say. It pretty much confirmed the conclusion Erik had come to. Charles breathed out slowly as he pushed his wheelchair forward. From what he could see, Hank had stopped quite a fair way back, more than likely due to Charles’ interference._

 

_“Not in the way you think.”_

  


_“In what way then, Charles?” Erik shuffled and fumbled as moved Peter into an easier position before raising himself from the ground, helped by all the metal in his and Peter’s clothing, and carrying Peter with his arms under the boy’s neck and knees towards the house. Charles turned his wheelchair around and moved to keep up with Erik._

 

_“He was…” Charles breathed out slowly. “He was scared of rejection.” Erik’s head snapped to look at the telepath. Charles just shook his head. “After everything that happened, he believed you wouldn’t want him.” Erik looked down at Peter in his arms. He took in the silver locks and eyebrows, the nose and face shape which now looked so familiar to him - he’d seen them in the mirror every single day - and the brown eyes he knew were under Peter’s eyelids, and realized he was properly looking closely at them for the first time. This was his son, his only living child, living family._

 

_He let out a laugh that not only surprised Charles but also himself, and leaned down, pressing his lips to the 28-year-old's crown._

 

* * *

  _2018_

 

They ate while overlooking the school. Their school, their home. Jean again pressed her hand against the barrier and felt it push back lightly. It was sturdy, firm, but didn’t fight back, didn’t attack her for its troubles. It protected what was inside… from them. She turned back to the group.

 

Peter was inhaling food at a tremendous rate, as usual, yet looked unfulfilled and nervous in ways many had not noticed. He was sticking to healthier foods, avoiding his much beloved sugar, and his movements were somewhat more hesitant, careful, unsure. Scott seemed confident, but she could feel his fear and longed to save him from drowning, but it was like he was creating a barrier, such as the one barricading the school, to protect himself and assure himself. She didn’t want to put cracks in it, didn’t want it tumbling down.

 

Kurt, like always, was unintentionally the hope they clung to. She knew he’d been in terrible situations before, but he seemed to easily forgive. Yet, there was a weariness in him that told her that he wasn’t quite as fine with this as he said, that he was a little terrified of being alone. She also saw his fear of losing his mother once again, a woman who held so much guilt for leaving him that she didn’t stop thinking of what could have been every second of her life, never forgetting him.

 

Ororo and Jubilee looked alright on the surface, but they were also unhappy, being so close yet so far from home. Ororo was taking it better. She’d been through a lot more then Jubilee had, and was adapting better than most. It didn’t mean she was okay, though. Jubilee shook in little bits, trying so hard to hold herself together, as she did regularly. Jean thought it might be because she wasn’t alone that she managed to look this put together. If she was alone, it may be a different story.

 

Jean herself was unsure how she felt. She was in a whole new world, looking at her home through an impenetrable shield, unable to get help or find someone she knew. Her powers were failing her, she couldn’t find anyone else she knew, only her friends. She knew a little tidbit of information she’d withheld from the group, but she knew Peter knew.

 

They were in the future. And they had no way of getting back to their own time or any way of knowing why they were there in the first place.

 

* * *

  _2018_

 

Pietro - _how is he here? He’s dead, dead,_ **_dead_ ** \- lifted his sister up and placed her on Clint’s couch, sitting down beside her and brushing her hair away from her face. Clint stood in the doorway, staring up and down at the other man.

 

“Why is she here?” Pietro finally spoke again and Clint realised they were on the same page of ignoring the elephant in the room, that much was clear. “Why did she come here?”

 

Clint held back a shrug. In all essence, he didn’t know exactly what she was doing at his house, but he suspected it had something to do with her nightmares. She liked to go see him when they occured, finding comfort in his peaceful little house with his family. His wife had everytime welcomed her inside and saved a seat for her at every meal she wished to sit. “She comes here every so often.”

 

“Where else?” Pietro spoke in slow syllables, savoring the taste of every sound that came out of his mouth like it would be his last one. An adamant fear, seeing as Clint was still in disbelief of how in the actual hell he was alive and well. How?

 

“She did live at the avengers tower,” A small ‘oh’ sound came out of the boy’s mouth. “But now she moves place to place, with Cap and Nat or with…” He didn’t like to assume anything about Wanda’s relationship with Vision, but he knew it was pretty serious and that the little ‘civil war’ thing had not done too much to draw them apart. It hadn’t done much to tear any of them apart really. With little attachments and side deals, the whole thing had only not been forgotten by Steve and Tony themselves. And even then, everyone knew they were both just being stubborn, clinging to their views and morals tightly.

 

Pietro was about to ask why when Clint eyed a photograph in his hands. The archer motioned to it with his head and Pietro looked down, hesitantly holding the paper out. It was old, black and white and torn. A woman stood, strong and sturdy, a young girl and teenage boy on either side of her. He then saw that another three photographs were stuck to the back of it. He, ever so gently, tugged them away from the first photo and took a look at the second. It was of a baby, wrapped up in the arms of the same woman in the first photo. But unlike in the first, she looked far from happy. She seemed to be tearing up. At the edge of the frame, a nurse stood with another baby, this time with light but rather thick hair. While the baby in the woman’s arms had dark hair and a small bow tucked in between her small blanket, the other baby did not.

 

He moved on to the third photograph. This time it was the same woman, but a man this time, as well as a young girl with much lighter hair. To his understanding, the three girls seen in the photographs were not the same, but completely different people. The little girl hand her hands clutching both the man and the woman’s hands. She was grinning widely. He then took a look at the last photo.

 

Another trio, mother, father and daughter, but this time only the man was recognisable. Another new little girl, this time with dark hair and a small smile, a few animals gathered nearby. The woman was different as well, happier, more alive and free. Like she hadn’t seen as much pain as the other woman had.

 

Clint moved his gaze up to meet Pietro’s. He tilted his head slightly and the boy reached out to not take them back but point to the figures. He started with the first one, pointing at the little girl who was clinging to her brother’s hand tightly. He whispered one word. “Mama.”

 

* * *

  _2018_

 

“FRIDAY, could you take a look at this file for me,” Tony Stark sat at his desk, choosing to spend his time that day digging through shields old files and secrets, to see if he could find anything important. And something had caught his eye.

 

An old college paper, it looked like, which confused him. Why would shield need to keep that hidden away? A bit more searching and he found a few more heavily coded files which he’d hacked into almost too easily. One file simply labelled X, intrigued him. His eyes dusted over one tidbit of information he uncovered that had shocked him to the core.

 

_Homo superior (Human mutants) possess the X-Gene (mutant gene, X-Factor, "mutator gene") positioned on the 23rd chromosome (sexual chromosome). Another account mentions a X-Factor chromosome, or chromosomal X-Factor._

 

Two figures stood in a photograph, probably not aware they were being photographed. One had blue skin with scales and reptilian eyes, while the other was covered in blue fur and looked almost like a beast.

 

What the hell was this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "'Like, you’ve spent so much time raising stuff like guns and submarines and stadiums…' Peter then paused, like even in his state he was hesitant to continue on this little confession. 'Yet, you couldn’t even raise your own son.'" quote based on this http://cluelessfanperson.tumblr.com/post/142070256113/what-if-in-x-men-apocalypse
> 
> "Homo superior (Human mutants) possess the X-Gene (mutant gene, X-Factor, "mutator gene") positioned on the 23rd chromosome (sexual chromosome). Another account mentions a X-Factor chromosome, or chromosomal X-Factor." is from the marvel wiki. 
> 
> More dadneto and cherik in this chapter. Clint and Pietro bonding. And Tony there, still healing after Civil War (Which, in an unpopular opinion, I didn't like.)


	5. Chapter 4 - The Glass Shattering and Rock Cracking Beneath Our Feet

 

_2018_

 

Peter Parker hadn’t had the greatest day. From an awful grade to a multitude of bad luck, he was in a pretty shit mood. And the bus delay home didn’t help. But as he finally made his way around the corner, he nearly crashed into someone.

 

The guy straightened himself up almost immediately and raised his eyebrows at Peter. His _silver_ eyebrows. The guy’s dark eyes trailed over Peter as he stepped back and made his way to walk around him.

 

“Hey,” The other male broke the awkward silence, motioning down the hall. “You live over there, right.” He pointed at Peter’s apartment. Peter nodded, a little quickly. The silver-haired boy simply smiled, moving so that Peter could get past.

 

“Me and my buddies live next door,” Something clicked and Peter remembered Aunt May mentioning something about new neighbors and to visit, but he’d been so busy with school and going out on his daily escapades that he hadn’t had a chance. “It’s pretty cool to meet you.” He then held out his hand, a smirk ghosting his lips.

 

“Yeah, you too. I’m Peter, by the way.” Peter grasped the silver-haired boy’s hand and shook. The guy actually looked surprised before a proper smirk graced his lips.

 

“That makes two of us, my name’s Peter as well,” Peter, or Spider-Man, let his jaw go slack and his eyes widened.

 

“Wow,” He whispered and the silverette, Other Peter, grinned.

 

“Cool, huh,” Other Peter said and turned to continue on before pausing. “Nice meeting you, kid. Looking forward to talking some more.”

 

Before Peter could respond, Other Peter was already gone. He bit his lip and let his eyes catch the door to his counterpart’s apartment before opening his own door.

 

* * *

  _1985_

 

Marya Maximoff smacked him across the face as soon as she’d opened the door, and Erik took it without blinking. After she’d stepped back, immediately regretting her actions and looking absolutely petrified, he allowed himself to properly look her up and down. She hadn’t aged much and seemed alright for her age. It pulled at his heart strings, looking at her and seeing his baby daughter, hearing her screaming. Her face brought up more as well, his darling Magda and little bird Nina. And finally, Peter’s face, both choking on water, seconds from drowning, and his terror as he looked up at a god who had snapped his leg like a twig, rendered him powerless, ready to slit his throat and kill him for good.

 

And that reminded him of why he was there. As the bearer of bad news. So he simply gave her a sorrow filled look and asked politely if he could come inside. Her, confusion but also worry etched on her face, moved aside and motioned for him to do so. He made his way down the hall, eyes catching photographs of a young Peter, grinning and cheery and so much like the boy he’d gotten to know over the time they’d had.

 

He then saw the entrance to the basement, walls covered in stolen road signs and a few skateboards. He wondered what life would have been like for the two of them if he’d known about his son beforehand, if his daughter hadn’t burnt to death and about what a family of Anya, Marya, him and Peter, would be like. How different he’d be. He also wondered what it was like for Peter to grow up with his superspeed, not knowing what was going on, just knowing that he was different. He wondered how Peter was treated for having silver hair, how much bullying he suffered due to humans and their standards of ‘normal’. And how in the hell Peter was still a kind and giving person with a bright smile.

 

Marya sat down at the kitchen table and waited for him. He followed her lead and she looked at him expectantly. He gulped.

 

“Marya…”

 

“Please, get on with it.” She gazed at him with tired eyes. “I know something’s wrong, so hurry up and say something.”

 

“Peter’s gone.” He let out a shaky breath.

 

“Gone?”

 

“He disappeared, Charles is trying to find him but…” She grabbed his arm and pulled it, and him, towards her. He half-heartedly struggled against her, knowing that he deserved this. It was his fault.

 

“ _What?!_ ” She almost screamed in his ear. He cringed but didn’t speak, feeling her handshake before she let him go and he rested back in his chair as she slumped on the table. “What do you mean he disappeared? Just, poof, he was gone?”

 

“Something like that…” His voice was gruff and he looked anywhere but at her. The table shook with her and then she stood, chair screeching and scratching the ground. She slammed her hands on the table.

 

“Bullshit!” She shouted at him and he sighed, standing himself. She kicked the chair back before turning and tossing it down the hall. The wood splintered and he felt the metal bolts strain against the force. “You’re lying.” She stalked out of the room, not even glancing at him. “Stay there. Don’t leave.”

 

So he didn’t.

 

He sat there for hours in silence, feeling every piece of metal in the house and surrounding area. It gave him comfort, which he knew was undeserved but he simply couldn’t handle being without some sort of comfort then. He felt the lock turn before he heard it, his head snapped towards the sound and he wondered who it could be. It wasn’t Marya, she hadn’t left, he could still feel the thin bracelet on her wrist upstairs. It was someone else.

 

“Mum, I’m ho- who are you?” A girl, maybe around the same age as Peter had been the first time they’d met, when he was young and free, breaking rules and such without a thought of the possible consequences. Giddy and wild. As he himself might have been, if he had had a real childhood, had been ignorant and hadn’t grown up so quickly.

 

The girl gathered herself up, expectant for an answer before searching his face and finally recognizing him, if the fear on her face did say anything. She let her bag drop to the ground with a thud and backed away slowly, feet grazing the bottom step before she spun around and dashed up the steps. Erik merely rubbed his eyes and listened.

 

“MUM!” The girl screamed, loud footsteps pounding above. He could feel an earing trail around, nearing the bracelet. “It’s that terrorist guy! From TV.”

 

He groaned.

 

* * *

  _2018_

 

Scott Summers had had enough. The stiff silence was too much. “Alright, what are we going to do?!” Jean’s head shot up and they stared at each other for a little too long before she sighed.

 

“First I need to tell you something…” Peter looked over at her, raising his eyebrows and Scott rose his own. “This is Westchester, yes, but not the one we’re familiar with.”

 

“What are you talking about, Jean?” Ororo asked, narrowing her eyes, confusion and more so worry etching lines into her face. Peter rolled his eyes and Jean nodded to him. He held up a newspaper. Scott’s eyes widened.

 

“What the f-” Jean rushed over to him and pressed her lips against his and for a moment his mind went blank and then she pulled away and everything came back.

 

“Please, don’t freak out.”

 

“How can we not freak out?” Jubilee asked, getting to her feet and pointing at the newspaper, at the date. Scott gathered himself and cried.

 

“It was 1985 almost an hour ago and now it’s 2018?!”


	6. Chapter 5 - Tossed Like A Rag Doll

_1985_

 

“I called her Wanda,” Her voice was gentle, calm. Her fingers brushed softly against the edges of the photograph. “Her and Peter, they were twins.”

 

“Were?”

 

“She died, not long after she was born. Once she had, the doctors told me Peter wouldn’t be far behind…”

 

“They were wrong.” His voice had a bit of an edge to it. She pretended not to notice.

 

“When I left you, I came here, to America. I had to start my life from scratch, it wasn’t easy.” She stroked another photograph which depicted a young Peter with a medal around his neck and a large grin on his face. “I took Peter home and cared for him like I knew he would survive. I believed he would simply pass in his sleep, never wake up. Over the next few months, I had been on edge, waiting. And slowly, time passed and he stayed, healthy and happy. He was such a cheerful baby, barely cried. And he grew and years passed and one day I realised that the doctors had been wrong.”

 

She slid yet another photo over to him, only this one had him in it, and Anya, his baby girl. “How did you…?”

 

“The only one left. I had it on me that day. It’s the only one I have of you and the only one I have of her. I’ve always been careful to keep photographs of the rest of my children on me. This is the only one of Wanda as well. You should keep it.” She said, placing it back down from where she lifted it up. She then looked at him. “I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered the words before sliding her seat backward and standing. Instead of leaving, as he assumed she would, she stalked over to him and hesitated before wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind, as she used to.

 

He ran his hands through his hair. “Who’s the girl?” He asked, leaning into her a little, keeping one of the photos in his hand and holding it tight while the rest fluttered down to the table. She ran her hand down his arm and pressed her finger to the little girl in the photo, the one with dusty brown hair and a face like her mother’s.

 

“Lorna, _my_ daughter. I don’t know who her father is, was, but I never bothered to find out.”

 

“She has green hair,” He pressed his lips together. “Did she dye it?”  


“No.” Her voice was sharp. “It’s… she’s a mutant, like you and like her big brother. And probably like Wanda would have been.”

 

He nodded slowly, then turned his head and pressed his forehead against hers. She gave him a watery smile.

 

“She and her brother were all I have left, but now... “ Her voice caught. “God, how will I tell her? She’s always adored her big brother…”

 

“She’s not all you have left.” He was surprised at his own words. But he found he didn’t really regret saying them. “I’ll tell her…”

 

Marya Maximoff slid to her knees and Erik Lehnsherr turned around so she could bury her head in his lap.

 

* * *

  _1984_

 

_Peter awoke with a start although he didn’t remember falling asleep. He found himself on a hospital bed with a killer headache and his father resting in a chair flipping pages between his fingers as he read the book in his hands._

 

_His father._

 

_Who didn’t know he was his father._

 

_Fuck._

 

_“Oh, good morning,” Erik closed his book and set it on the table gently. He raised his eyebrows at Peter’s look of confusion. “What?”_

 

_“What the fuck happened?” Honestly, Peter couldn’t figure out what had actually happened, all he remembered was waking up the morning prior, hungry as all hell. Speaking of which, his stomach growled and Peter flushed. Erik simply let out a silent, so small you could easily miss, chuckle and held out a twinkie. He was sure he could hug his father if it wasn’t for the fact that one; he was a world terrorist and two; he was his father except he didn’t know…_

 

_Once Peter had devoured the twinkie, he noticed Erik looking at him expectantly. It reminded him of his previous question. “No, seriously, what happened?”_

 

_Erik watched him carefully. “You don’t remember?”_

 

_“No?” Peter shrugged. Erik let out a sigh._

_  
_ _“You got drunk and nearly drowned in the pond out front. Scared the living daylights out of a lot of us here, myself included.”_

 

_Why Erik? Why would he care about a nobody like him? Why was he here, in Peter’s recovery room, sitting and reading and feeding him twinkies?_

 

_The realisation sunk through him almost instantly, the colour leaving his face. Erik simply sat and watched, like he was waiting for Peter to put two and two together. But he couldn’t believe it. That couldn’t be it._

 

_“You know?” His voice was quiet. Erik again raised his eyebrows, as if to say ‘go on’._

 

_He refused to. If Erik didn’t know, then like hell was he ready to say a damn thing. After a few moments, Erik finally got the message and shook his head._

 

_“You told me before you passed out. Gave me a fright, but I do understand why you kept this little secret from me.” Erik leant forward and Peter flinched before realising Erik was only cupping his cheek. “You are my son, Peter.”_

 

_Peter moved to sit up and fell back, his head once again pounding. But he didn’t care. “Fuck, I’m stupid.”_

 

_This time he was sure that Erik laughed. “You sure are.”_

 

_“I was so certain you were gonna leave.”_

 

_“I get why.”_

 

_“But… you’re still here. Why?”_

 

_“Because,” Erik then looked away, humming. “Because you’re my only family left. This is my only home. And you are my son, so I will do anything for you.”_

 

_Peter didn’t have the energy to reach up and hug him, so Erik did it. His father pulled him up and into a hug so tight he struggled to breathe. And he found he just didn’t care._

 

* * *

  _2018_

 

It wasn’t as if Tony Stark didn’t like seeing the kid, but the apartment was a little out of the way and he usually had a lot of better things to do. But, the boy had mentioned something about new neighbours and when Tony had done background searches on them - he wasn’t _protective_ , he was just looking out for the guy, damn it Natasha - and… nothing. Their records weren’t just clean. They didn’t exist.

 

So he decided to check it out.

 

Right before he got to Peter’s door, he heard a loud shouting next door.

 

“You go get it! I’m not going back out!”

 

“Nah, I went out earlier and I actually have shit to get done.”

 

“What ‘stuff’?”

 

“Come on,” A third voice, a woman’s voice whereas the prior voices were male, cut in. A loud struggle could be heard and then the door creaked open and two teenagers came out.

 

One was a girl, long ginger hair hanging loosely. She wore a teal green top and blazer with jeans. The other was a boy who wore a grey shirt with a jacket and jeans but also wore glasses with ruby quartz lenses. Interesting.

 

So these were two of the new neighbours. They were young, most certainly under twenty. The ruby quartz glasses were a surprise, and he wondered what they were for exactly.

 

“Scott, he has really important work to get done. We need passports you know.” The girl said. They both walked straight past Tony, and if the situation hadn’t been strange before, then it certainly was now. Because everyone knew who he was. _Everyone_ knew who Tony Stark was.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of setting up for future chapters and a bit of fluff.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in this fandom, please give me advice if I'm writing them wrong. And I'm not sure if I should have any other ships, if anyone has a request I may consider it.


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